Sketches of Love
by Shimmerwings
Summary: Unconnected sketches about various couples on Valentine's Day. And, uh, a Valentine's war. Quite a few different pairings eventually.
1. Sketch at Dawn

**Chapter title:  **Sketch at Dawn

**Rating:  **G

**Synopsis:  **A series of sketches and interludes about different couples on Valentine's Day.

**Category:  **Slash, romance, fluff, sap, all that good Valentine's stuff

**Warnings:  **FLUFF.  Take my usual levels, crank them up because of the holidays, add an attempt at a slightly different style to flavor, bake on 350 . . . 

**Feedback:  **Of course, of course.  I'll be posting the rest even if you don't, but please do.  I thrive on it.

**Disclaimer:  **Newsies not mine.  They thank God every day for that, I just know it.

**Notes:  **Not quite Valentine's Day yet, but I started early.  There're quite a few chapters to this, although they'll all be about this short, I think.  Don't choke on the fluff.

These little sketches aren't connected.  The only thing holding them together will be a vague framework of time and the interludes (you'll see later).  So for those who can't see a Lodging House full of gay guys (yummy as that would be), no fear; they're entirely unconnected.  Slightly new writing style with this.  I'm fairly satisfied with how it came out.  Kind of.  Err . . . yeah.

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He was awake before Kloppman's "Sell the papes, sell the papes" rooster impression woke them all up.  Everyone else was asleep; Race was still snoring and Pie Eater was mumbling "S'good pie.  Cherry's my favorite," so they must have been.

All except Snitch, apparently.

"Urgh.  Uh, Snitch . . ." he spluttered.

"Mmph?"  Well, maybe Snitch wasn't fully awake.

"Your foot."  He made gagging noises.  "It's on my mouth."

Snitch giggled and twitched his foot.  His smudgy big toe hit Itey's lower lip.

"Urgh," he repeated.

"S-sorry."  More giggling, and finally the not-particularly-pleasant feeling of clammy toes sticking to his chin left as Snitch sat up.  "My feet like you."  Itey watched as Snitch curled his face-friendly feet up under his body, clearly reluctant to put them on the icy floor.

"At least your feet do," Itey murmured.  Snitch looked at him, all confused eyes and morning-messy hair.

"Huh?"

"Nothin'," he said more loudly, but not loud enough to wake anybody up.  The older boys got pretty cranky if anything interrupted their sleep.  And he had Snitch to himself for a bit; free to feel the taffy and sunshine of Snitch's grin against his skin, when the frosty February morning should have been making him shiver.  Maybe let himself pretend for a little while that Snitch felt the same way about him, had the same wish-could-happen feelings that Itey'd been trying to hide for about a year now, maybe longer. 

"I dunno why I can't just sleep turned around, if havin' my feet in your face bothers you that much."  Snitch pouted.  

Itey sighed.  He'd only end up embarrassing them both, some night or morning, by waking up with his arms wrapped around thin shoulders and his face buried against a long column of throat, like his dreams had him doing.  So they couldn't.

 "It's Valentine's Day," he said abruptly.

"Yeah," Snitch answered slowly.

"You have a Valentine?"  He asked it carefully, casually.  Last year there had been a girl-- with golden hair, not dark curls, and clean and rosy cheeks instead of dirt-smudged, dusky skin-- on Snitch's arm; Itey's opposite in every way. 

"Not really."

"Not really?"  Itey raised an eyebrow.

"Well, uh, no."  Snitch's face was turning suspicious shades of pink, worse than any of the lacey sweetheart cards propped up in shop windows.  Itey grinned.  "But . . ."

His grin wavered.  "But?" he prompted.

"But . . . It's getting pretty late.  Kloppman should be coming soon." 

"Someone special, huh?"  That girl-- Helen, or Hannah, or Holly--had left not far into March; it couldn't be her.  There had been no new girls lately.

"I think so," Snitch said, grinning the familiar, crooked, sticky-taffy smile that made Itey's chest tighten.  Whoever the girl was, she was lucky.  "My feet like him."  And then he clapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide.

Itey stared and neither one moved.  For a long moment the only sound was an occasional mutter from Pie's direction.

Itey cleared his throat.  "So, you . . .?" he asked vaguely.

 "Umm," Snitch said, voice muffled behind his hand.  Even his ears were turning pink.

"Me?"  He kept his voice neutral.

"Umm."

Suddenly, he couldn't keep from grinning.  "Well, I think maybe I . . . wouldn't mind having you sleep turned around."

Snitch dropped his hand, mouth hanging open.  "You mean?"  Itey nodded.  "No foolin'?"  Itey laughed and shook his head.  "Great!"

Snitch kissed Itey.  It didn't taste like taffy.  Maybe sunshine; early morning sunshine, if there was a difference in flavors.  They pulled away when Kloppman's shoes sounded on the stairs.

Smiling widely, Itey leaned forward.  "Does that make me your Valentine?"

*********************************

I thought about doing Snitch/Skittery for this one, but the whole waking up with someone's foot in your face thing just cracks me up.  Also, I had way too much fun with all the round-about dialogue.  Do they ever come out and say it?  *re-reads*  Nope.  Heh.  So, uh, sorry to all the Snitch/Skittery fans.


	2. Interlude: War Declared

**Chapter title:  **Interlude:  War Declared

**Notes: ** You can blame misprint for this pairing.  The utterly adorable fencing scene in "It Just Won't Quit" made me fall in love with the idea of this pairing.  So, yeah, it's all misprint's fault.

I have an inexplicable fondness for Jake.  

This interlude is not connected in any way to the "world" of the previous sketch.  I'll clear this up ahead of time:  each of the interludes will be connected to each other, like real chapters usually are, lol.  None of the sketches are related to each other, though.  And none of them relate to each other.  Wow, that just makes it more confusing.  I won't even go into my convoluted reasoning for the way I set things up.  Yowser.

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_"Hey, you!  Come back here.  Thief!"_

_It was _his_ now.  No one could take it from him.  _

"Skittery." 

_Clutching the precious burden to his chest, he ran quickly through the streets.  _

"Skittery."

_The sound of footsteps behind him got closer._

"Skittery!"  

_"Give back the chocolate, boy!"_

A hand clutched at his shoulder.

"Aaaah!" He bolted up in bed.  "I didn't do it!"

Someone-- probably Race-- snickered.  "Keep tellin' us that, Skitts.  Maybe someday we'll believe you."  Skittery blinked and glared sleepily in the direction the voice had come from.  Beside him, Kloppman snorted and moved away from his bunk, poking awake the few boys who were still sleeping.  "Jack, you owe me now."  Yep, it was Race all right.

"Why's that, Racetrack?" Jack looked up from washing his face.  Water dripped off his nose.

"I bet you a nickel he'd say that three days in a row.  That was number three, so pay up."

"Damn, I forgot.  I'll pay you after I sell my papes."

Skittery groaned and rolled out of bed.  "You guys are bettin' on me?"  He stumbled over to wash up, grabbing a towel.  "Don't you have better stuff to do?  Or am I just that wonderful?"  He ducked the towel Jack threw at him.

"About as wonderful as sellin' in Spot's territory is!" shouted Jake from across the room.  Most of the room burst out with laughter and hollers; Itey fell off his bunk, clutching his sides.  Skittery glanced around and spotted the towel Jack had thrown at him crumpled on the floor.  He grabbed it and tossed, but it unfolded and drifted to the floor before reaching Jake.

Race chuckled.  "We can't help you're so damn predictable.  If I was bettin' on you all the time, instead of horses, I'd be livin' the high life."

"What I want to know," Blink said, reaching around Skittery for a bottle of shaving cream, "is what you're dreaming about."  He waggled his eyebrows, leering.  "Get caught by some girl's pop or somethin'?"

Grimacing, Skittery shoved Blink.  "Nah, it's not like that."  He avoided looking towards where he knew Bumlets was getting dressed.  He was the only one who knew what Skittery dreamed about and was probably smirking worse than Jack at the Delancey brothers.  "Why would I dream about what happens to _you_ all the time?"

"I never get caught!"  Blink shoved him back.

"Hey, guys, no need for that," Crutchy spoke up.  "It's Valentine's Day, after all.  Love and stuff, right?"  He gave them both a cheery grin.  

"Right, Crutchy.  Love and stuff."  Blink turned to Skittery, batting his eyelashes.  "And I looove Skitts."

Skittery snorted, but couldn't help a grudging smile.  "Yeah, yeah," he muttered.  He snuck a glance toward Bumlets as he started pulling on his own clothes.  The dark-haired bastard _was_ smirking.  

It wasn't his fault he had dreams about chocolate.  Chocolate was nice.  Not as nice as a dark, warm form pressed against his in the back at night, or melting kisses, but that was beside the point.  It really was.

He sighed.

It was hard to stay annoyed when he happened to love the guy.  And Bumlets knew it.

"_Ahem."  Skittery looked up, startled, and Race smacked him lightly on the side of the head.  "You plannin' on joining us some time?"  He gestured to the door.  Already, most of the older guys had left, leaving the younger, slower ones to scramble to catch up.  Skittery looked at his hands, which held one sock and one shoe._

He flushed when he realized that he had been sitting there, staring at them, his thoughts on Bumlets.  "Yeah, I'm comin'," he mumbled quickly, shoving his bare foot into the sock and shoe.  Maybe if he hurried he could still get a decent spot in line.  He jumped up and strode toward the door, knocking against someone in his rush.

Something was pushed into his palm.  It crinkled when he tightened his fist around it, so he loosened his grip and held it up.  It looked like just a crumpled bit of paper, but it was smoother and whiter than the rough paper he usually had to mess with.  Carefully, he smoothed out the creases.

The paper was cut into a heart.  A lopsided heart, but the shape wasn't hard to figure out-- the shop windows were full of them.  And something was written on it.  The careful pencil lines spelled out "I love you." No other words, not even a name.

Skittery jerked his head up.  Bumlets lounged against the doorframe, watching him silently.  Everyone else was gone.  "You?" he asked, holding up the Valentine.  Bumlets grinned.  "But I . . . we--" 

"I know," Bumlets said.  Then he winked and slipped out the door.  

Skittery stood, staring after him in shock.  He looked down at the crude Valentine again and blinked.  They had come to a silent agreement not to bother with this stuff; they didn't have enough money to waste on frilly, pink and red hearts and candy.  But Bumlets had done something anyway.

And Skittery hadn't.

For a heavy moment he felt guilty.  Then his eyes narrowed.  There was no way Bumlets was gonna get away with giving Skittery something and not get anything himself.

In fact, he was going to get his lover something even _better_.  Gently folding the heart, he tucked it into his shirt pocket, then dashed out of the Lodging House, grinning wildly. 

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studentnumber24601--You know me too well.  I mean NO, I am absolutely not going to do a cute and fuzzy Jack/David scene.  *shifty eyes*  I'm glad I made you  "awww".

Chronicles Bailey--Yay!  I'm glad you liked.  Hopefully you'll read and like(or at least tolerate) the other chapters.  *grins*  That was one of my favorite lines to write.

Jinx-- Hehe.  Isn't Itey/Snitch adorable?  There probably won't be any more in this story, although… *looks thoughtful*  But I do believe there is more Itey/Snitch sometime in my future.  I'll think of you when I write it, lol.

Thumbsucker Snitch-- Once more, I wish you a happy birthday :)  *sends you a singing Snitch-o-gram*  Someday…someday I'll do Skitts/Snitch, I believe.  Comfort your Skitts!muse with that.

AaronLohrLover24—Thanks!  Here's one of the new pairings.  Who's next?  You'll see… *winks*  Enjoy!


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